


The Enemy of My Enemy

by impossiblepluto



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e06 Murdoc + MacGyver + Murdoc, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 10:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: Alternate ending for Murdoc + MacGyver + MurdocHomicidal sociopaths and blond geniuses don't mix.Hurt/comfort + angst





	The Enemy of My Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Even if you cut a scene or scrap an idea from one story, you never know when it might come in handy somewhere else, so always save your work.  
> Thanks to everyone who's read, kudo'd or comment on any of my fics. I truly appreciate and value every one of you!

Mac's feet barely scraped against the ground. He scuffed and scrambled ineffectually, trying to get his legs to cooperate and support his weight. Instead he was dragged along, suspended between two men. His head lolled, unable to find the strength to hold it upright.

The first day, he'd fought his captors during this trek; resisting, pulling against strong arms. Eyes roving wildly, trying to take in the dank hallway with one fluorescent humming bulb. No windows. He tried to identify exposed pipes and wires that he could use for escape.

The second day was much the same, trying to estimate the length and width and height of the hallway. The space between doorways. The number of pipes. Light switches. Process and categorize; create and reject possible plans.

The third day was harder. Barely conscious when they pulled him along. Vision blurred. He was sure it was still only two guards that held him, but they wavered and doubled before his eyes.

The next day and the next day until he wasn't sure which day it was. Blood dripped and hit the cracked concrete with a splat, leaving a gruesome trail.

It took a moment for him to realize they'd stopped moving. Home sweet home. The heavy door creaked open and they pulled him inside, dropping him in the middle of the room. He landed in a heap, and made no effort to move. It hurt too much. His breath hitched, broken ribs grinding together. He was going to cough soon. He needed to, if he wanted to stave off pneumonia. He could already feel a rattle deep in his chest, his lungs already felt thick, but he worried if he started coughing he wouldn't stop until he passed out.

One of the guards grasped his ankle, twisting it. He let out a soft whimper as an iron manacle snapped shut around it. Rubbing against raw skin, and aching against deep bruising that had settled in days before when he still had strength enough to fight against his restraints. At least they still saw him as enough of a threat to keep him chained, though he wasn't sure why at this point. He barely had the strength to make it down the hall carried between two muscle bound guards.

Chains rattled behind him.

"Well, speak of the devil..." Mac cringed at the voice.

"Thought I was already talking to him," Mac ground out through tightly pressed lips.

"I walked into that one, didn't I?" A low deep chuckle. "Glad to hear you're still feeling a little spunky. I knew it would take more than this to break you."

"Just, shut up, Murdoc."

"You are slowing down though, aren't you." Murdoc said his voice in a sing song. "Not quite as feisty. Your comebacks are starting to sound more like Jack's."

Mac slowly raised his head from the floor and scowled at him through swollen, blackened eyes.

"Not that I blame you," Murdoc continued, almost gently. Almost empathetically, if he weren't a sociopath with homicidal tendencies. "It takes a great deal of strength to endure this every day and still stay alert enough to exchange witty banter with me. I do appreciate the effort."

Mac huffed out a bitter half-laugh that pulled against his ribs. His arms stretched around his middle, to support and brace, and that dreaded cough from earlier exploded from his chest with enough force that he saw stars.

"I'm baring my soul to you, the least you could do is listen," Murdoc's annoyed tone broke through the fog as Mac's coughing jag slowed.

Mac drew in a shaky breath, and wiped his mouth. "Sorry if my coughing was inconveniencing your monologing." He replied sarcastically.

Murdoc's mouth fell open. "I do not monologue. I may, on occasion, try to find a connection with you. I hardly think that qualifies as something as blase as monologuing." Murdoc huffed. "To be honest, the comparison to some incompetent comic book villain really hurts, MacGyver."

Mac didn't reply, just focused on breathing. "Is that what you see me as? Your mustache twirling arch nemesis?" Murdoc spat the words out. "Did you at least give me a cooler codename than the CIA. I always thought Suspect 218 was so... disrespectful really. Not even an attempt at creativity, and a number high enough to suggest that I wasn't really a priority."

"I think Jack voted for Captain Nutbar."

"Oh that Jack," Murdoc chuckled, then paused a thoughtful look on his face. "Is that what's missing from this excursion? Should we have picked Jack up along the way?"

Mac glared at him.

"That's it, isn't it," Murdoc mused. "I've been so disappointed by this glimpse behind the curtain, if you will. Normally, your work is so inspired. I thought maybe after your little impromptu vacation you'd lost your touch, but it's not that at all. You're missing your Jack."

"Leave Jack out of this," Mac growled. He flinched when he realized he'd let Murdoc get under his skin.

"Oh, that's cute." Murdoc laughed. "I thought Jack going off the rails when you were gone was embarrassing, but now I see that co-dependency is mutual." He cackled.

Mac slowly turned away from Murdoc, ignoring the digs.

"Oh, don't turn away mad, I can understand... sort of. There's a psychology to it. It's the high risk situation, close contact invoking some sort of weird bonding. I recognize there is an appeal. This last week would have been unbearable without you here to pass the time," Murdoc continued, rattling the manacles that kept him chained to the wall. "But, please tell me the blond boy scout finally has a plan to get us out of here."

* * *

 

"I can't believe this was your plan," Murdoc groused.

Mac's gait lurched. He stumbled against the wall. His already raw cheek scraped against the cold block. "I didn't hear you suggesting anything better."

"You have to admit, this really isn't your best work."

"You didn't have to come along," Mac glared at his enemy. Murdoc remained, relatively uninjured, at least in comparison to Mac. Amber taunted during their captivity that Mac was her warm up, but Murdoc would be her masterpiece, and Mac just couldn't leave him behind. Jack would probably yell about it later. Reminding Mac that it wasn't too long ago that it was Murdoc who threatened to do unspeakable things to him. But in this moment, the old adage "the enemy of my enemy" seemed to apply. He just hoped Murdoc felt the same.

"I don't think Amber's going to fall for this." If Mac didn't know better, he'd think Murdoc almost sounded worried. 

"You did," Mac said simply, trying not to waste breath or time arguing. 

"You're in quite a mood today." Murdoc replied, glaring at Mac. "There's really no need to be insulting."

Mac focused on putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring Murdoc's jibes. He was running on his last reserves of strength. Amber had proved over this last week that she was every bit as disturbed as her husband. There wasn't a single place on his body that didn't hurt, and he might even admit that to Jack once they escaped. There would be no point lying about that. His body an obvious map of the torture he'd been through.

"Your distraction's not going to last much longer, Angus," Murdoc hissed from further down the corridor where he'd stopped to peek around a corner. "You'd better hurry up. I've seen what Amber can do; she's barely gotten started."

Mac felt like his heart was galloping like one of the racehorses at the ranch. His breathing rough, coarse. He pushed himself up from the wall and staggered down the hallway. His head swum and the hall spun.

Then a muffled shout behind them, followed by another. Their escape noticed. Dread welling up in Mac's chest, warring with oxygen for space.

"I am sorry, Angus," Murdoc said. Mac must be more out of it than he realized because he could almost see genuine regret. "But I can't risk getting caught. It's only a matter of time before she gets tired of you and starts in on me. And Cassian needs his father."

"Murdoc, no," Mac choked. He stumbled again, his knees crashed against the floor and he gasped at the jarring pain, like a lightening rod up through his hips, up his spine and coursing to his shoulders.

"Come on, MacGyver, you've heard of the scorpion and the frog, right? You couldn't have believed this was going to end well." Murdoc shrugged. "It's just my nature. Toodles." He gave a wave as he disappeared further down the corridor, using Mac's escape route. 

"No!" Frustrated tears flooded Mac's eyes. His hand scrambled on the floor, trying to pull himself up. He was so close to freedom. But the voices grew closer. He wouldn't make it. He knew they wouldn't give him the opportunity to try again. Even if they did, if they still underestimated him, he didn't think he'd have the strength to try another escape.

Rough hands grasped him and pulled him to his feet.

"He was right, you are such a boy scout," Amber roughly patted his cheek. "I might not even have gone after you, if you had just left him for me. Too bad you insisted on being a hero."

* * *

There was murder in Jack Dalton's eyes. He had a singular focus, ignoring the way technicians, other agents, even TAC team members dodged out of his path. He'd spent this last week in hell, searching for any sign from his partner, taking off on any lead, no matter how slim. He hadn't quite circled the globe, but he'd come close.

And then the biggest lead simply knocked on the front door.

Murdoc had some nerve showing up at the Phoenix without Mac in tow.

Jack flung the door to the interrogation room open. He stalked across the room, pushing aside the table that blocked him from his intended target. The table slid with a shriek, metal against the floor. He ignored Matty's yells, his eyes firmly on his prey.

Murdoc's lips curled up in a semblance of a grin. His eyes wide.

"Jacky, boy," Murdoc cooed. "I surprised myself by how much I missed you." His voice broke off as Jack pulled him to his feet by the collar of his shirt. The chair wobbled then crashed to the floor. Jack slammed Murdoc back against the wall. His arm rested heavily across Murdoc's throat.

"Where is he?" Jack's voice was quiet. Deadly.

"Gosh, you kidnap a guy one time and suddenly you're responsible anytime he goes missing..." Murdoc began, his hand came up to tug ineffectually at Jack's arm.

Jack slammed him against the wall again. His arm pressing harder against Murdoc's airway. "He agreed to come with me the second time," Murdoc rasped.

"You agreed not to harm him."

"I didn't," Murdoc choked. "I wish it had been me. I'm becoming quite miffed at the number of times I've been robbed the chance to make that boy bleed. But I made a promise and I kept it. I'm a man of my word. I didn't touch him. My... wife... took a fancy to him."

"Jack, let him go," Matty commanded from behind them, finally breaking through the fog of the murderous rage in Jack.

Between Matty's orders and the shock... did Murdoc say his wife... Jack loosened his grip on the psychopath.

Murdoc's hand came up to massage his throat. "Jack, that was so exciting. I forget how forceful you can be. Does Mac appreciate your animal instincts?"

"If you hurt him..."

"I just said I didn't touch him," Murdoc rolled his eyes. "To think I was seriously considering finding my own Jack, to see if he inspired me the way Angus uses you as a catalyst for his creations." He paused, then seeing the barely restrained fury in Jack's features continued. "Don't get the wrong idea here. If it weren't for that pesky promise I would have sequestered that boy away myself and spent the last week watching you chase your tail. I suppose there's always next time."

"Where's MacGyver?" Jack barely restraining himself from putting his fist through Murdoc's face.

"Look, it's a long story. One I don't think Angus has time for. I'll hit the highlights. We were escaping. His plan, well... it wasn't his best. How do you keep him properly motivated, Jack? Because I've seen the things he's pulled off with your encouragement, I just don't think it meant the same coming from me."

Jack pushed him against the wall again with a growl. His other fist struck the wall next to Murdoc's face.

"Okay, no more tangents. I managed to escape. He wasn't so lucky. He had trouble focusing. Might have been the head injury."

Jack's heart hammered in his chest. "Where is he?"

"I'll give you the coordinates. You might want to hurry. He was coughing up blood."

Jack's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you helping us?"

"Because I do want him back. Maybe as much as you do. Different reasons, of course. But you and I have put a lot of time and effort into that boy in recent years. And I refuse to let Amber be the one who kills him."

* * *

The surface underneath him was hard; cragged and coarse against his skin. He's cold. It's seeped in from the ground beneath him. It's damp. It smelled like copper. Not just smelled, he could taste copper. He ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth and barely contained a flinch at the burn when his tongue met his split lip.

His breathes came in wheezing gasps. His body ached.

His one chance to escape failed.

This might be it. His team didn't even know which country to begin looking.

The heavy door squealed as it opened. Mac curled in on himself. Eyes closed. He didn't know how much more he could take.

"Mac," a horrified whisper, but a voice he would recognize anywhere.

* * *

 

Jack cleared room after room in this fortress of terror. He thought he'd never meet anyone else as twisted as Murdoc, but he was wrong. Nana always said 'crazy marries crazy.'

He was just starting to lose hope. Starting to believe that Murdoc had lied to them, sent them on a wild goose chase. But he'd used Mac's location as a bargaining chip for getting Cassian to safety, and Jack didn't think Murdoc would risk his son like that.

So, maybe, Amber had taken Mac and run after the escape attempt. But she would have no reason to assume Murdoc would help Mac escape, not after leaving him behind, and especially not with his history of hurting Mac. Secure locations like this didn't just grow on trees, and he doubted she would have had time to set up a secondary location.

Down the next hallway he froze. A blood trail, splattered and streaked where someone had been dragged. Dread creeping in, filling his veins with ice water.

The door wasn't locked. It couldn't be a good sign. He pushed against the heavy metal, it shrieked and squealed, and light filled the dim room.

There in the corner of the room, curled up, shuddering and shivering.

"Mac," he whispered at the sight.

The usually blond head lifted, his hair now dark and matted. He squinted at the doorway. Jack was already halfway across the room.

"Jack," Mac breathed. He lifted a bloody hand and reached for Jack. Jack dropped to his knees next to his partner, gently taking Mac's hand in his. The hand was cold, it trembled in his grasp.

Jack took in the sight of his partner, skin marred, bloodied and bruised. He reached out with his other hand and froze. There was so much blood. Too much blood coating Mac's skin, forming a puddle under him. Jack's pants were soaked as he kneeled in it. He couldn't see the source. He wanted nothing more than to lay his hands on Mac, to scoop him up and run far away from this nightmare. He was overwhelmed; he couldn't see one place to touch Mac that wouldn't cause him pain.

"Jack?" Mac looked up worried, confused by how Jack just stalled next to him and started to push himself up.

"Easy, hoss, just lay still," Jack's hand finally rested on Mac's shoulder, firm pressure to keep Mac from rising. "Medics are on their way."

"I just want to get out of here," Mac protested. "Just help me up."

"Oh, Mac. I'm sorry, bud, I want to get you outta here, but we gotta wait. I don't even know where I can touch you. I don't want to hurt you more." Jack shook his head regretfully. He could feel Mac shivering beneath his touch, but his skin was flushed with fever.

"You won't," Mac promised."I'll be fine."

"We gotta see what the damage is before we let you up. Murdoc said you were coughing up blood."

"Murdoc?" Mac's eyes widened. "How did you find him?"

Jack shook his head. Trying to hide the frustration and anger he felt towards himself from his partner. "I didn't. He found us." He changed the subject and fixed Mac with a look. "Where're you hurtin'?"

"It's not as bad as it looks. She didn't want to actually kill me." Mac tried to placate Jack.

"You sure about that?" Jack's hand slid from Mac's shoulder down across his ribs.

Mac winced at the light pressure. "Right now, no," Mac confessed. "It hurts." Mac's rare honesty about his health caused Jack's worry to skyrocket. His fingers rested on Mac's pulse point just beneath his jaw when commotion at the doorway signaled the medics' arrival. Jack started to push away to make room for them when Mac scrambled for Jack's hand again. "Don't go."

"Not leaving you," Jack reassured, as he repositioned himself closer to Mac's head, leaving plenty of room for the medics to work. He carded a hand through Mac's hair, matted with sweat and blood, keeping a reassuring hand on Mac as the medics began to examine his partner.

"Not going anywhere, bud."

* * *

"What do you want?" Jack stood on the other side of the glass wall that contained the monster.

Murdoc's lips curled into a grin. "Just to gloat."

Jack made a show of looking at the security system, and tapped against the glass. Then shrugged. "So gloat."

"This?" Murdoc gestured to his cell. "I've escaped from you twice. I've taken him from you twice. And both times, you had nothing to do with his rescue. How does that make you feel, Dalton?"

Jack's face a mask. He didn't need Murdoc to spell this out for him. He was all too well aware that had Mac not saved himself the first time, or Murdoc not decided to bargain the second he might still be searching for Mac. For Mac's body.

"You claim to be his bodyguard, but..." Murdoc animatedly cringed. "You don't have such a great track record."

"We're done here." Jack turned on his heel, his jaw clenched tightly, teeth grinding together.

"You sure you're still the best person to watch out for him? You sure you're still enough to keep him safe? Because I have my doubts." Murdoc's voice followed him down the hall before the door closed.

Jack's fists clenched and relaxed at his sides as he made his way down the hallway. He'd scrubbed his hands raw multiple times, but he felt a tacky residual from where his hands had been coated in Mac's blood. His recent shortcomings had been preying on his mind without Murdoc's barbs. The seeds of doubt that maybe he was getting too old for this. Maybe he'd lost his edge. That he needed to find someone who would keep Mac safe, because he obviously couldn't.

Jack found himself outside of Mac's room in medical. He stared down at the kid. Sleeping, but not as peacefully as he'd been when Jack left for his ill advised meeting, as if Mac could feel the undercurrent of Jack's tension even in sleep and across the complex. Nasal cannula in his nose, an IV filled with antibiotics snaked down under the covers. Another could be traced from his other arm for a transfusion. Mac's eyes purple like a raccoon mask. A row of tight black stitches across his upper lip. Blankets hid the worst of the bruising across Mac's chest, arms and legs from view, but until these last few minutes Jack hadn't left the kid's side. He'd already seen each colorful bruise and angry wound in vivid detail as the medical team categorized and cared for each one.

He slipped quietly next to Mac's bedside, and slid into the chair he'd vacated only minutes before. Murdoc's taunts played in his head, mixed with his own self-flagellation.

Mac shifted restlessly, a soft whimper escaped his lips. Jack reached out brushed Mac's hair back from his forehead, careful to not disturb the white gauze pad taped there, faint shadowing on the bandage. Mac stilled under Jack's touch, and slipped back into a deeper sleep with a sigh. Jack's hand rested on Mac's forehead, he could feel the remnants of fever under his hand.

Jack kept his hand there for Mac's comfort, not allowing himself to find his own in the simple, familiar motion.

"You're too important to me, Mac." Jack whispered. His heart clenched painfully. "I can't lose you. Maybe Murdoc's right. Maybe I'm not enough to protect you anymore."


End file.
